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louis lambert-第13部分
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pronounce judgment on it by a rapid glance。
A short time before our separation; Lambert said to me:
〃Apart from the general laws which I have formulatedand this;
perhaps; will be my glorylaws which must be those of the human
organism; the life of man is Movement determined in each individual by
the pressure of some inscrutable influenceby the brain; the heart;
or the sinews。 All the innumerable modes of human existence result
from the proportions in which these three generating forces are more
or less intimately combined with the substances they assimilate in the
environment they live in。〃
He stopped short; struck his forehead; and exclaimed: 〃How strange! In
every great man whose portrait I have remarked; the neck is short。
Perhaps nature requires that in them the heart should be nearer to the
brain!〃
Then he went on:
〃From that; a sum…total of action takes its rise which constitutes
social life。 The man of sinew contributes action or strength; the man
of brain; genius; the man of heart; faith。 But;〃 he added sadly;
〃faith sees only the clouds of the sanctuary; the Angel alone has
light。〃
So; according to his own definitions; Lambert was all brain and all
heart。 It seems to me that his intellectual life was divided into
three marked phases。
Under the impulsion; from his earliest years; of a precocious
activity; due; no doubt; to some maladyor to some special perfection
of organism; his powers were concentrated on the functions of the
inner senses and a superabundant flow of nerve… fluid。 As a man of
ideas; he craved to satisfy the thirst of his brain; to assimilate
every idea。 Hence his reading; and from his reading; the reflections
that gave him the power of reducing things to their simplest
expression; and of absorbing them to study them in their essence。
Thus; the advantages of this splendid stage; acquired by other men
only after long study; were achieved by Lambert during his bodily
childhood: a happy childhood; colored by the studious joys of a born
poet。
The point which most thinkers reach at last was to him the starting…
point; whence his brain was to set out one day in search of new worlds
of knowledge。 Though as yet he knew it not; he had made for himself
the most exacting life possible; and the most insatiably greedy。
Merely to live; was he not compelled to be perpetually casting
nutriment into the gulf he had opened in himself? Like some beings who
dwell in the grosser world; might not he die of inanition for want of
feeding abnormal and disappointed cravings? Was not this a sort of
debauchery of the intellect which might lead to spontaneous
combustion; like that of bodies saturated with alcohol?
I had seen nothing of this first phase of his brain…development; it is
only now; at a later day; that I can thus give an account of its
prodigious fruit and results。 Lambert was now thirteen。
I was so fortunate as to witness the first stage of the second period。
Lambert was cast into all the miseries of school…lifeand that;
perhaps; was his salvationit absorbed the superabundance of his
thoughts。 After passing from concrete ideas to their purest
expression; from words to their ideal import; and from that import to
principles; after reducing everything to the abstract; to enable him
to live he yearned for yet other intellectual creations。 Quelled by
the woes of school and the critical development of his physical
constitution; he became thoughtful; dreamed of feeling; and caught a
glimpse of new sciencespositively masses of ideas。 Checked in his
career; and not yet strong enough to contemplate the higher spheres;
he contemplated his inmost self。 I then perceived in him the struggle
of the Mind reacting on itself; and trying to detect the secrets of
its own nature; like a physician who watches the course of his own
disease。
At this stage of weakness and strength; of childish grace and
superhuman powers; Louis Lambert is the creature who; more than any
other; gave me a poetical and truthful image of the being we call an
angel; always excepting one woman whose name; whose features; whose
identity; and whose life I would fain hide from all the world; so as
to be sole master of the secret of her existence; and to bury it in
the depths of my heart。
The third phase I was not destined to see。 It began when Lambert and I
were parted; for he did not leave college till he was eighteen; in the
summer of 1815。 He had at that time lost his father and mother about
six months before。 Finding no member of his family with whom his soul
could sympathize; expansive still; but; since our parting; thrown back
on himself; he made his home with his uncle; who was also his
guardian; and who; having been turned out of his benefice as a priest
who had taken the oaths; had come to settle at Blois。 There Louis
lived for some time; but consumed ere long by the desire to finish his
incomplete studies; he came to Paris to see Madame de Stael; and to
drink of science at its highest fount。 The old priest; being very fond
of his nephew; left Louis free to spend his whole little inheritance
in his three years' stay in Paris; though he lived very poorly。 This
fortune consisted of but a few thousand francs。
Lambert returned to Blois at the beginning of 1820; driven from Paris
by the sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there。 He must
often have been a victim to the secret storms; the terrible rage of
mind by which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle
recollected; and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis
Lambert wrote to him at that time; perhaps because it was the last and
the longest。
To begin with the story。 Louis one evening was at the Theatre…
Francais; seated on a bench in the upper gallery; near to one of the
pillars which; in those days; divided off the third row of boxes。 On
rising between the acts; he saw a young woman who had just come into
the box next him。 The sight of this lady; who was young; pretty; well
dressed; in a low bodice no doubt; and escorted by a man for whom her
face beamed with all the charms of love; produced such a terrible
effect on Lambert's soul and senses; that he was obliged to leave the
theatre。 If he had not been controlled by some remaining glimmer of
reason; which was not wholly extinguished by this first fever of
burning passion; he might perhaps have yielded to the most
irresistible desire that came over him to kill the young man on whom
the lady's looks beamed。 Was not this a reversion; in the heart of the
Paris world; to the savage passion that regards women as its prey; an
effect of animal instinct combining with the almost luminous flashes
of a soul crushed under the weight of thought? In short; was it not
the prick of the penknife so vividly imagined by the boy; felt by the
man as the thunderbolt of his most vital cravingfor love?
And now; here is the letter that depicts the state of his mind as it
was struck by the spectacle of Parisian civilization。 His feelings;
perpetually wounded no doubt in that whirlpool of self…interest; must
always have suffered there; he probably had no friend to comfort him;
no enemy to give tone to this life。 Compelled to live in himself
alone; having no one to share his subtle raptures; he may have hoped
to solve the problem of his destiny by a life of ecstasy; adopting an
almost vegetative attitude; like an anchorite of the early Church; and
abdicating the empire of the intellectual world。
This letter seems to hint at such a scheme; which is a temptation to
all lofty souls at periods of social reform。 But is not this purpose;
in some cases; the result of a vocation? Do not some of them endeavor
to concentrate their powers by long silence; so as to emerge fully
capable of governing the world by word or by deed? Louis must;
assuredly; have found much bitterness in his intercourse with men; or
have striven hard with Society in terrible irony; without extracting
anything from it; before uttering so strident a cry; and expressing;
poor fellow; the desire which satiety of power and of all earthly
things has led even monarchs to indulge!
And perhaps; too; he went back to solitude to carry out some great
work that was floating inchoate in his brain。 We would gladly believe
it as we read this fragment of his thoughts; betraying the struggle of
his soul at the time when youth was ending and the terrible power of
production was coming into being; to which we might have owed the
works of the man。
This letter connects itself with the adventure at the theatre。 The
incident and the letter throw light on each other; body and soul were
tuned to the same pitch。 This tempest of doubts and asseverations; of
clouds and of lightnings that flash before the thunder; ending by a
starved yearning for heavenly illumination; throws such a light on the
third phase of his education as enables us to understand it perfectly。
As we read these lines; written at chance moments; taken up when the
vicissitudes of life in Paris allowed; may we not fancy that we see an
oak at that stage of its growth when its inner expansion bursts the
tender green bark; covering it with wrinkles and cracks; when its
majestic stature is in preparationif indeed the lightnings of heaven
and the axe of man shall spare it?
This letter; then; will close; alike for the poet and the philosopher;
this portentous childhood and unappreciated youth。 It finishes off the
outline of this nature in its germ。 Philosophers will regret the
foliage frost…nipped in the bud; but they will; perhaps; find the
flowers expanding in regions far above the highest places of the
earth。
〃PARIS; September…October 1819。
〃DEAR UNCLE;I shall soon be leaving this part of the world;
where I could never bear to live。 I find no one here who likes
what I like; who works at my work; or is amazed at what amazes me。
Thrown back on myself; I eat my heart out in misery。 My long and
patient study of Society here has brought me to melancholy
conclusions; in which doubt predominates。
〃Here; money is the mainspring of everything。 Money is
indispensable; even for going without money。 But though that dross
is necessary to any one wh
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